Blonde woman with gamin haircut and a bright red hat does not wish to be overlooked. At the step before the top step everyone looks at her, yet all we noticed was her yellow feather attached to the hat’s brim, and all we recalled was…
Category: Poetry Prompt Responses
The jig was always up
Fiddle music someone playing a jig or dancing one I think of my grandfather immigrant Gramps, Norwegian as they came would dance a jig of celebration; in front of the TV following a home team victory in the aisles of the ballpark after a home…
The Swallowtail Jig
Fiddle dee fiddle them happy happy joy joy dancing the Jig here I come Joyful hoppin’ Heritage layed celebration time Ireland defined As I merrily move Learning the custom Knowledge well spent
From the Inside Out (Hour 7)
FROM THE INSIDE OUT Inside out, outside in. Break my body, slam my brain, to fit the golden ratio of beauty. Two hours, three hours at the gym, counting calories, watching Macros, but a Mesomorph can never be an Ecto. So fuck the scale and…
Caverns at the Shoreline (Hour 11)
The caverns at the shoreline are lit by a bonfire’s light, And the wind begins to pick up the distant sound of a violin. The waves can be heard breaking deep within rocky chambers, A girl twirls with curls of red, and lays her chin…
8
There was a time, once when I didn’t think I would ever turn on an electronic device to write a creative piece, that I have thought of, in my head in black and white, instead of using paper and a pen to write with. I…
The Jig
Earth under foot in time, to music played with a bow. Eyes that shyly meet Have a luminescent glow. The dance is a frenzied weave – Of twirling, spinning rows Leprechauns and their kin And others you may know Quicken the pace of the dance…
Prompt Eleven
As in the Past Come dance with me, a ‘swallowtail jig’, like early settlers to this land. We worked all day, tilling summer’s yard, tonight – let me hold your hand. Come dance with me, verdant skirt swishing, while tapping out this buoyant tune. We’ve…
There are No Words for This, But a Poet Has to Try
How can a jig Encapsulate life? Two measures tear me up, Tighten my throat Capsize my heart so it floats upside down in my chest, Rudder aloft and sails under water. It starts with the swallowtails, of course, Dipping and diving for insects…
Death to Self (Hour 6)
DEATH TO SELF I see, hear and feel the truth, but it does not set me free. Rather, it pricks my heart with a finely cut dagger. I miss the you’s through out my life, all those I’ve had to say goodbye to. Why? Why…